


Penance

by Sephielya_J_Maxwell



Series: Johanson Household [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Corporal Punishment, M/M, Spanking, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:23:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephielya_J_Maxwell/pseuds/Sephielya_J_Maxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An original Victorian era piece. Two male servants balance their duties, social morality, and their secretive relationship with one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> Provocation, Penance, Without Remorse

     Three days ago, there was a small accident in the Johanson household. Jeffery, who at three years old was the youngest of the master’s children, had tripped over a toy. The fall left him with a cut lip and a bump on his head, neither of which was anything to worry about; though the young boy’s tears had carried on for a little over an hour. The children’s nanny, Warren Sutton, was scolded on and off for hours after the incident. Surprisingly, the usually short-tempered Mr. Johanson didn’t order the nanny to be punished for his carelessness. Whether this was an oversight or a genuine act of mercy was unknown, but Warren wasn’t very happy about it. He made this evident in many small ways, most of which went unnoticed by the master, mistress, and other staff of the household.

 

On the day after, he had been particularly short with the boys. More than one maid reported to Roland that they had heard him scolding them for little things. This seemed perfectly reasonable to the butler at first, seeing as how one of them had been hurt so recently. Surely Warren only wanted them to pay more attention. But on the second day, Warren had extended that same irritability to his fellow staff. One of the maids had lingered a little too long after cleaning out the fireplace, and been accused of spying on him to make sure he did his job right. He had scolded the cook, Mrs. Gerda, for preparing a side that she knew both of the children didn’t like. She had nearly throttled him for that herself, but he had hurried back to his own duties. When another maid offered to fix one of the boy’s shirts which had ripped at the sleeve, Warren had told her in no polite terms that he didn’t need her help.

 

Day three was the final straw. At breakfast Warren’s patience had run so thin that he scolded Grahm harshly, leading the boy to cry. This in turn had left the nanny both guilty and irritated, which was exaggerated when Grahm threw a toy at him from across the room later that afternoon. As he attempted to get Grahm to stay on his stool in the corner, a maid had come in to collect the dirty laundry. She had picked up the toy that had been thrown, and Warren turned his scolding to her. She was a young maid by the name of Mary, and she had come away from the event with tears in her pretty blue eyes. She complained to the housekeeper, who in turn had brought the matter to Roland. No longer able to ignore this disruptive string of behavior, the butler had decided to confront the young nanny.

 

Just after the children had taken lunch, Warren had returned with them to the playroom after cleaning them up. Roland arrived at the room shortly after, with Mary tagging along behind him, her shoulders hunched and her eyes averted. Knocking twice on the open door, he watched Warren’s green eyes go from irritated to shocked. The nanny sat on the floor with Jeffery in his lap, the bandage still on the boy’s forehead. He held the boy’s hands partially to keep him from pulling it off, as he was constantly trying to do. Warren recovered quickly, turning his gaze to Mary. “Whatever she told you, I’m sure she exaggerated. I merely,”

 

“Quiet, Sutton.” Roland said calmly, though his tone was low and even, and Warren suppressed a shudder. “Mary, please look after the children for a moment. I need to have a talk with Sutton.” The butler ordered. Warren seemed to hesitate as the maid came forward, but he bit his lower lip eventually, standing up to hand Jeffery over. It wasn’t without a glare to the maid, which Roland caught as well. He closed the door as soon as Warren stepped out, turning on the nanny swiftly. “You are becoming a disruption to this household.” He stated firmly. Warren’s eyes were anywhere but on the butler, though his brows were still furrowed.

 

“Blunt as ever, Mr. Gladwell.” He murmured quietly. “But I’m not doing anything out of line. I have yet to hear of any complaints from Mr. or Mrs. Johanson.” He finished with a small shrug. Roland narrowed his blue-grey eyes, not satisfied at all with this remark.

 

“Perhaps not, but they have made their way to _me._ It’s only a matter of time before they hear of it.”

 

“Are you going to tell them?” Warren asked in a quieter tone. He jumped as Roland’s fingers came up under his chin, the fabric of his gloves soft, and he allowed his gaze to be lifted.

 

“Is that what you seek to gain; our employer’s negative attention?” Roland inquired with a frown of disapproval. Warren took a step back, making a point of lifting his chin away from that touch.

 

“I do not seek to gain anything, Mr. Gladwell. It seems to me that it’s my fellow staff that have issue with me.” Warren quipped. He flinched when Roland took a step towards him, retreating until his back was up against the wall. The butler came to stand only inches from his body, and his heart began to race with apprehension. Roland’s expression was bordering on anger now, and his voice lowered again.

 

“Cease this disrespectful tone immediately. You are being willfully insolent right now.” The butler warned. Warren swallowed, averting his eyes again.

 

“I haven’t done anyth,”

 

“ _Sutton._ ” Roland interrupted. “Would you like to earn yourself a visit to my study this evening?” The expected answer was notably absent to this question. Instead, Warren seemed to consider his options, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Finally he spoke, his voice soft and almost inaudible.

 

“ _Yes._ ” The nanny whispered. Both of Roland’s brows rose in surprise before his expression shifted quickly into puzzlement. There was no way that Warren misunderstood his intentions; his study was used for punishment. Roland took a step back, pulling out his pocket watch and glancing to it.

 

“Very well,” he stated, taking note of the time. “You will meet me at 7 o’ clock, just after you put the children to bed.”

 

“I understand, Sir.”

 

“Then you may return to your work. And Sutton?” Roland called as the nanny made for a quick escape. Warren paused, glancing over his shoulder. “I expect you to be on your best behavior until then. One more complaint and you will truly be sorry.” The butler promised. Warren swallowed again, giving a solemn nod of his head. He knew by now not to take such a threat lightly, and whether he wanted to visit that study or not, he wouldn’t test it.

 

     The evening came on peacefully. The children were put to bed after their dinner, behaving happy and content for the first time in days, and there were no more complaints from the maids. Warren waited anxiously for 7 o’clock to roll around, standing outside of Roland’s door for the last 5 minutes. At exactly 7, the door opened, and Roland was met with a very skittish looking young man. The butler himself had removed his coat, cravat, and gloves, standing before him with only his trousers, shoes, shirt, and waistcoat. Moving aside without a word, Roland allowed the nanny to step inside. The door was closed, giving a click as it latched, and another as it locked. The door connecting Roland’s room with his study was open, and Warren regarded it curiously. It wasn’t customary for that door to be open for a punishment. To further his confusion, the butler stepped past him, going not for his desk to retrieve the cane, but into the bedroom.

 

Warren followed at his heels nonetheless, his heart picking up pace again. Though the two of them had become much closer over the years, this was out of character for the situation. Roland liked to do things ‘by the book’, clinging to tradition and formality. The nanny stopped in the middle of the room, bringing his hands behind his back and shifting uneasily. “Mr. Gladwell?” He asked finally, as the butler was taking his pocket watch out.

 

“We have approximately twenty minutes before I must assist in dinner preparations for the rest of the household.” Roland unclipped his watch, the soles of his shoes clicking across the hardwood floor until he reached his bedside drawer. Setting it on top, he turned to face the uncomfortable nanny, crossing his arms. “So speak, Sutton. Why are you acting out?” He pressed. Warren frowned, wringing the hands that were still behind his back.

 

“I told you; I’m not.” The blond answered. Right now, he was doing his best not to crumble. _Just get it over with_! he begged silently. Roland seemed to have a different goal however, and the look of disappointment on the butler’s face made Warren’s chest ache. The last thing that he wanted was for Roland to think ill of him.

 

“Is this another game of yours? We’ve talked about this before, Sutton. You’re not to purposefully,”

 

“This has nothing to do with you!” Warren interrupted, brows drawn, voice nearly breaking. “I promise you, Mr. Gladwell, this is not about you.”

 

“Then what _is_ it about?” Roland’s arms uncrossed, holding out his hands so that his palms faced the ceiling as if waiting for the answer to fall on him. Warren’s throat grew tight, his words stuck in his throat. He hesitated for a moment, growing increasingly anxious as the seconds ticked by. Finally he licked his lips swiftly, turning his eyes away from the man he respected, and trusted above all others.

 

“If everyone would just,” he swallowed, parting his lips to give a sharp sigh. “No, forget it. Will you please just punish me?”

 

“So this _is_ a game.” Roland frowned, his voice growing strict. Warren gave a helpless sound of frustration, lifting his gaze to the butler’s face.

 

“Either punish me or let me return to my work.” He managed to murmur. Roland paused for a moment, a little struck by the complexity of that response. He hadn’t neglected the nanny lately, and so it might be true that Warren wasn’t seeking his attention with bad behavior, as he had done before. It felt like hours passed in the next 30 seconds that it took the butler to make his decision. When Roland began to roll up his first sleeve, Warren was at once both relieved and startled. “Aren’t you, I mean, the cane,” he stuttered, glancing over his shoulder towards the study.

 

“That won’t be necessary.” Roland replied, quickly moving on to the other sleeve. “We both know that a cane will teach you nothing. You’re still not being honest with me, and so I thought that perhaps something more personal might allow you to better reflect on your recent behavior.” Once his sleeves were properly secured in place, midway up his biceps, the butler took his seat onto the bed. “This isn’t up for discussion. Now take down your trousers and lay over my lap.” Roland patted his right thigh, as if he needed to punctuate that order. Warren’s hands moved before he knew it, trembling slightly as they came to fumble with the buttons on his pants. This was the last thing that he had expected, but he should have known better. Roland knew him better than he knew himself. Warren knew better than to stall, as it would only irritate the punctual butler, and so he stepped over to the side of the bed without hesitation. With his heart in his throat, he untied his drawers, pushing them down along with his trousers.

 

Lying over Roland’s lap before the cool air could even register across his bare skin allowed him to first notice the warmth of the strong thighs he was across. Warren bit his lower lip as they both shifted to get comfortable; angled slightly so that he could rest his upper body on the bed. The nanny exhaled a shuddering breath as Roland’s left hand came to rest at his hip. It was more of a comfort rather than a precaution to keep him still, and his eyes nearly closed when he felt the butler’s calloused thumb rub him there. Roland spoke up again, though his tone was authoritarian, bringing the nanny back to the present. “Are you certain that you don’t wish to talk about this?” He asked, to which Warren nodded. “I can’t hear you.”

 

“ _Yes, Sir_.” Warren murmured.

 

“Very well. Your behavior in the past few days has proven to be an unnecessary disturbance in this household. As you refuse to explain why as I have asked you to, I have no choice but to hold you wholly responsible, and therefore deliver the appropriate punishment.” Roland’s commanding voice could easily stir up a conflicted warmth in Warren’s belly on any other day. On this day in particular, there was only ice water and faint nausea. Though the desire to protest the notion that this was an ‘appropriate punishment’, Warren wisely held his tongue for once. “Tell me what you are being punished for.”

 

“Willful insolence, I believe you called it?” Warren replied without a hint of teasing. That tone alone saved him from an extra swat before they even began.

 

“Until you feel ready to explain to me what it is that really landed you into this position; this will not end, Sutton.” Roland could feel his own concern pressing at the edges of his resolve, but Warren’s body went limp on his lap, every muscle relaxing.

 

“I understand, Mr. Gladwell.” The nanny sighed, his tone none other than relieved. Roland’s brows lifted, as if he finally understood. There was no more need to hesitate. Assuring that he had a good hold on Warren’s hip, he lifted his right hand. _Smack,_ the sound of his palm hitting the first supple cheek was loud in the largely barren room. Warren barely reacted, other than to curl his fingers into the sheets. _Smack, smack,_ the echoes filled the room; each swat bringing a touch more color to that pale bottom. Roland wasn’t holding back; his hand lifting even with his shoulder for every powerful swing of his hand. Warren held his breath through fifteen, letting it all out in a gasp at the next. _Smack, smack, smack,_ each merciless strike gave the chosen cheek a small bounce, and left behind a darkening blush.

 

“ _Aah,_ ” Warren’s fingers twisted into the sheets, and he pressed his cheek against their cool surface. He took the swats each in stride, letting the pain wash over him in waves of color. _Accept it, breathe it out, don’t move_! He chanted to himself. The burn had already settled in, and each swat became like a fresh coal laid on the fire; a new spike of pain. He didn’t know how long that this went on, as he didn’t bother to count the seconds nor the swats. Quiet whimpers forced their way up from the ball that was building in his chest, issuing forth from the back of his throat. Roland’s palm that lay against his hip was growing slightly damp, and he knew that his body was reacting to the pain all on its own. “ _Sorry_!” He groaned out, unable to withstand the onslaught any longer. “ _Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,_ ” Warren panted, tears rising to sting his eyes and blur his vision. Roland’s blows ceased at once, though it made no difference to the pain on the nanny’s glowing bottom.

 

“What are you sorry for, Sutton?” Roland inquired, a little winded himself. Shame flooded Warren’s chest, and he tensed again, shaking his head quickly. He sniffed, releasing the sheets which had been tightly balled within his fists. Roland sighed, laying his red-hot palm onto the nanny’s cooler thigh. “ _Warren_?” He prompted in a softer tone. That broke the barrier between them, and Warren responded to the sound of his name with a dry sob. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, glancing over his shoulder. He was met with the butler’s furrowed brows and soft eyes, and he remembered Roland’s starting words. Warren closed his eyes, shaking his head again. He heard Roland sigh, and it hurt to disappoint him, but the sound of the bedside drawer being opened prompted him to open his eyes again. They widened at the sight of the wooden-backed brush.

 

“ _Wait,_ ” He whimpered, but Roland’s left hand renewed the grip on his hip. _Crack_! The sound of the solid wood meeting his already red bottom was much louder than the smack of flesh had been. Warren jumped, gasping sharply. _Crack_ ; on the next strike he turned his head forward again. _Crack, crack,_ the following blows broke the floodgate that he had been holding back. His tears felt hot even on his already flushed face, and it was a challenge to stay still. His body jerked in an uncontrollable response to each unbelievably painful blow received from the unyielding brush. “ _Sorry, please,_ ” He moaned into the sheets, his shoulders shaking with heavy sobs. Somehow the pain had migrated, _finally,_ back to where it should belong. It felt as if the pressure on his chest had lifted, rendered completely obsolete by the pain of his backside. His shame, his _guilt,_ he was finally able to absolve it.

 

     Roland had always prided himself on his resolve, but that was being pushed to the limit. Warren had cried before, whether it was from the birch or the cane, or even his hand, but he had never before given such heart-wrenching sobs. The hip that he held had long ago grown damp with sweat, and this time it wasn’t his own. It gave him no joy to punish Warren this severely, but he was given no choice. The nanny had to admit to him his reasons, or they would be unable to resolve them. Warren’s pale, round cheeks had been turned a cherry red, and the brush had brought out darker spots which would soon become bruises. The nanny jolted with each swat now, knees bending and hips wiggling ever so slightly as if to escape. At long last, Warren broke.

 

“ _I failed_!” The nanny cried out, freezing Roland mid-swing. Warren went limp at once, his body wracked with sobs. “ _I failed, I’m good for nothing_!” The brush was laid out on the drawer, and the butler’s left hand left the younger man’s hip. It moved instead to rub at the back of the blond’s shaking shoulders. He could only see a bit of Warren’s face through his blond curls and the sheets that he was buried in to, and so he lifted his hand to brush his hair aside as well. “I’m twenty, Roland! I’m twenty, I should be a footman!” Warren only paused to whimper as the butler’s right hand came to rub gently at his sore bottom, closing his eyes and seeming to relax a little more.

 

“ _Hush,_ Warren.” Roland spoke calmly, stroking those unruly curls slowly. The nanny sniffed, giving a small shake of his head.

 

“ _No,_ no it’s _true_! I’m useless. I was useless as a pageboy and I’m even more worthless as a nanny!” He sniffed again. “I allowed Jeffery to get hurt! Grahm was throwing a tantrum, and I was distracted,” Warren panted, his voice strained.

 

“ _Shhh, shh,_ ” Roland soothed again. “It was an honest mistake. No one is perfect, Warren.”

 

“ _You_ are!” Warren responded, and Roland gave a quiet sigh.

 

“Do you really think so?”

 

“Of course! You became a butler at, at 23! You’re punctual, well-dressed, immaculate, even your _hair_ behaves!” Warren’s voice had dissolved into a whine, his sobs beginning to subside. Roland chuckled in response, running his nails over Warren’s scalp gently.

 

“Warren, listen to me.” Roland paused until Warren began to calm, waiting for those green eyes to meet his own. “I preside over _adults._ Individuals capable of complicated thoughts and able to carry out detailed tasks. I do not have to watch them every second of my day just to make sure that they do not harm themselves.” Roland lifted his hand to wipe the tears from Warren’s eye with his thumb. “What you do; I couldn’t even dream of doing.”

 

“Don’t patronize me,” Warren protested, but Roland frowned.

 

“Do you really think that I can handle two young children? _You_ drive me mad, and you’re entirely capable of taking care of yourself.” That finally brought out a small smile from the younger man. Encouraged, Roland smiled as well. “Just imagine me chasing after two unruly toddlers, scolding them about being on time and keeping their hands clean; wiping down every surface that they’ve touched, juggling one while I change the other’s diaper, clean them up, and then do it again only a few moments later.” Roland was honestly troubled by the prospect, and it showed in his voice. Warren gave a gust of laughter, sniffing again. Reaching in to his waistcoat, Roland offered the nanny his handkerchief. Warren accepted it gladly, turning his head so that he could blow his nose. Roland patted his hip, and the nanny slid from the older man’s lap to sit on his knees in front of him. Retrieving the handkerchief, the butler folded it to a clean side; tilted Warren’s face up, and used it to wipe away his tears. Once this was done, he set it aside on the bed. With both hands, he kept Warren’s face lifted. Those pretty green eyes were red and watery; his face puffy and flushed with tears. Warren reached up, grasping Roland’s wrists lightly.

 

“Do you really think that I can do it?” He asked quietly, voice trembling.

 

“I _know_ that you can. Because you love those children, Warren. You love them so much that you felt so distraught over an innocent mistake that was made, that you ended up right here.” Roland leaned in, kissing the nanny’s forehead. Warren pulled Roland’s right hand away from his chin, lifting it to kiss that burning-hot palm without breaking eye contact.

 

“ _Thank you for spanking me, Mr. Gladwell._ ” Warren whispered; his appreciation heart-felt and honest. Roland felt a shudder pass through him, and his own guilt was absolved in that instant. The butler smiled, pressing his palm to Warren’s cheek and wiping away another tear.

 

“We’ll see if you still say that tomorrow.”

 

“I will.” Warren assured, holding tighter to the butler’s wrists.

 

“Very well.” Roland leaned forward again, placing another kiss to the curls obscuring the nanny’s forehead. He glanced over to the pocket watch, his expression falling. “Our time is almost up.” He watched as Warren’s expression fell to match his own.

 

“You see? You’re too perfect.” He teased this time. Roland lifted one brow in thought. With a smile, he spoke up even as he rose to stand.

 

“Stay here while I am gone. I’ll be back after dinner, and I’ll bring you something to eat.”

 

“But what about,”

 

“The children are in bed, Sutton. I’ll have Mary look in on them. This isn’t a request.” He reached into his drawer, pulling out a tin of lotion this time. “Lie down and put some of this onto your bottom. I’d do it myself, but,”

 

“I understand, Sir. Duty calls.” Warren responded with a smile now, his mood much improved. Roland lifted the watch from his desk, clipping it on before he slid it back into his pocket.

 

“That’s a good boy.” Roland praised, and Warren’s stomach flipped. He didn’t want the butler to leave; he wanted him to stay and give him more praises! But he kept obediently quiet, accepting a pet to his hair before the older man headed for the door, grabbing his coat and gloves on the way out. Only once he heard the door to the adjoined study open and then close did he flinch, hissing curses under his breath as he reached back to rub his own battered behind. He’d trusted Roland not to stop before he was ready, but the butler had really let him have it! Even better, he hadn’t just removed Warren’s guilt; he had given him back his confidence. Just as expected of his imperfectly perfect Roland.

 

All he had to do now was apply the lotion and wait for his superior to return, like a good boy. Perhaps the butler would even be so kind as to reapply it later, and Warren would be able to enjoy the feel of those fingers caressing his bare skin, even if it was in the same place that he had punished. Tears were welling up again before he knew it, but he welcomed them this time. It was only relief spilling over now; his chest was light as a feather. Tomorrow he would take to looking after the children with fresh eyes, and put his everything into his job. It wasn’t about him, but _them,_ and that is what he had forgotten. That is what Roland had reminded him. And he couldn’t be more grateful.


End file.
